


Summer Lovin'

by rougewinter



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M, overheated!mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougewinter/pseuds/rougewinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/19743.html?thread=119151647#t119151647">prompt</a> on the kinkmeme wherein Mycroft dislikes summer greatly. So it only makes sense that I plonked him in a tropical country and left Greg with the task of cooling him down. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alphera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphera/gifts).



> Thanks to the OP for the prompt, though I may have ran away with it. Hope you like it anyway. :)  
> This fic is also dedicated to my lovely beta and friend [alphera](http://alphera.livejournal.com/), who challenged me to write this fic in exchange for her writing hers. To which I say, Your turn, darlin’ ;D

Mycroft steeled himself as he stepped out of the blessedly cool hotel lobby and into the scorching heat of the city. He was in Phuket, Thailand for a conference and found that although there were a lot of things he would do for his country, braving the sticky humidity and sweating up a storm edged along the fine line he’d really rather not cross. Even though the conference was held at this same hotel, he was meeting someone at a local restaurant, hence necessitating him stepping out into the oppressive weather.

He didn’t have to wait long for the car taking him to his meeting to arrive, but it was enough that he could feel the prickly beginnings of sweat gathering under his armpits. He gave a nod of thanks to the bellhop that opened the car door for him before slipping into the vehicle. Once he settled inside the car’s cooler environment, Mycroft told the driver the location before reaching into his suit jacket and retrieving a handkerchief which he then used to wipe his brow. 

He pressed his lips into a tight line as he noticed how much he had already perspired in the few minutes he stood outside. Pocketing the wet handkerchief, he looked out the window as the car drove by, dreading having to step out into the sweltering heat once more. 

\-- 

When Mycroft arrived at the local establishment, he was not surprised to find it devoid of any air-conditioning and that it was furnished only with a variety of ceiling and wall fans that did nothing to help cool him down. He quickly spotted his companion, sitting close to the back of the restaurant and sipping a cold drink. The other man looked far more comfortable in brown slacks, white cabana shirt and straw hat than Mycroft did in his usual attire. But then again, the man was here on holiday; Mycroft was not. 

“Really?” the other man asked him once Mycroft approached the table, brown eyes twinkling with mirth at the older Holmes brother. “You could have at least dressed down.” 

“Gregory.” Mycroft said in greeting instead of responding to the comment as he took the seat adjacent to his companion. As he looked around the room to catch the eye of a server and hopefully get a cold drink of his own, he was caught by surprise when he felt a lock of his sweat-matted hair being brushed aside. 

“Look at you,” Gregory said with a soft smile when Mycroft turned to him. “You’re like a drenched little duckling.” 

“Yes,” Mycroft said with a slight frown. “It makes me look so incredibly attractive.” 

“It does.” Gregory said in a low voice and without hesitation as he shifted closer to Mycroft, who was surprised to see that Gregory seemed to mean it. 

Mycroft found himself unable to pull away when Gregory leaned even closer and began whispering in his ear, “I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel and strip you out of your wildly inappropriate-for-this-weather attire, just to see how far you’re soaked through.” 

Mycroft barely suppressed a moan when he felt Gregory’s tongue flick out to lick behind his earlobe, catching a bead of sweat that rolled down his hairline. When one of Gregory’s hands reached behind Mycroft’s neck to slip teasing fingers underneath his stiff collar, tracing lightly over the trails of sweat that started to drip down his back, Mycroft had to close his eyes and swallow a few times to regain his composure. When he turned to look at Gregory, it was clear that the man didn’t have the same reservations, lust clearly written on the detective inspector’s face. 

“I’m done with touring the city for the day,” Gregory said, his voice rough and thick with arousal, “Would you like to take me back now, Mr. Holmes?”

He could only nod in response, leaving Gregory to ask for the bill as he took his mobile out to call for the car. 

\-- 

The moment they stepped into the cool confines of their hotel room, Gregory pressed Mycroft up against the nearest wall and started pulling his clothes off. 

“Ridiculous.” Gregory breathed out with a soft chuckle at Mycroft’s suit blazer and vest as he shucked them off with practiced ease. He did take his time undoing Mycroft’s tie, slipping the knot down slowly; the way he licked his lips and looked straight at Mycroft was as if he was unwrapping a particularly sweet treat. 

Letting the silk tie slip to the floor, Gregory’s hands moved to unbutton Mycroft’s shirt. His fingers grazed across Mycroft’s collarbone, over freckled shoulders and down pale arms as he slipped off the man’s white shirt.. 

Greg’s eyes wandered south as he watched a trickle of sweat slide down Mycroft’s chest, following it on its path down to disappear under Mycroft’s trousers. Intent on chasing the bead of sweat (and keeping to the promise he made back at the restaurant), Gregory swiftly undid Mycroft’s belt and trousers, pulling them down along with him as he knelt on the floor, causing Mycroft to visibly tense at the action.

Up until now, they’d only limited their sexual encounters to sloppy kisses and hidden handjobs. Gregory had just gotten out of a messy divorce and Mycroft wanted to make sure they did this right, not wanting to rush the other man into something Greg wasn’t ready for. But with the way Gregory was looking up at him on his knees with hungry eyes, Mycroft wasn’t sure he had the fortitude to say no this time. 

As if sensing Mycroft’s uncertainty, Greg’s hold on Mycroft’s hips tightened, pressing the man against the wall. 

“I want this.” Greg whispered, eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in front of him. To emphasise his point, he opened his mouth and licked a long stripe over the cock encased in the soft pants. Mycroft couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him, his hand knocking Gregory’s hat off as he moved to steady the man’s head. 

“Greg-“ Mycroft let out shakily, his fingers gripping the salt and pepper hair in a last attempt to put a halt to the other man’s plans, but Gregory cut him off by squeezing his arse before running his hands over to the elastic band. Gregory pulled Mycroft’s pants down easily, careful of the strained erection as he did so. Taking the length in front of him in one hand, Greg looked up at Mycroft. 

“Don’t make me beg for it, Mycroft.” Gregory interrupted; his breath ghosting over Mycroft’s shaft as he squeezed the member. 

“Unless,” Greg continued with a wicked grin, “that’s what you want. Me. Begging for your cock.” 

Even Mycroft had to agree the moan he let out at that statement was purely shameless. 

He loosened his hold on Gregory’s hair but kept his hand atop the detective inspector’s head, in part to encourage Gregory to take his time and to convince himself that this was truly happening.

Greg took that as a sign to continue. After a brief moment to wet his lips, Greg parted them and began taking Mycroft into his mouth. He started slow, unused to the sensation of a member sliding between his lips and over his tongue but Mycroft’s gentle fingers carding through his hair only made him want to make the man feel good, to prove to Mycroft that he was ready to take their relationship to the next step. He took his time exploring how Mycroft tasted, enjoying the man’s distinct musk mixed with the tang of sweat.

Once his mouth was thick with saliva, Greg started bobbing his head around the member, drawing from his own experiences of how he liked to be fellated. His tongue twirled around the head of the member to lap at the pre-cum that formed there. The rest of the shaft Greg couldn’t take into his mouth, he stroked with his hand. It was apparent that Mycroft was on his last stretch of self-control, if the slight tremors under Greg’s hand were any indication. 

Despite Greg’s attempts to drive Mycroft wild with pleasure, the other man seemed to still be in possession of his mental faculties because he realised Greg was getting tired before Greg himself was ready to admit it. Gently coaxing Greg from his cock, Mycroft helped the detective inspector up and began rubbing small circles on Gregory’s jaw. 

“You don’t have to push yourself.” Mycroft reminded softly as he cradled Greg’s face in his hands. 

“I know,” he responded with a smile as he nuzzled one of Mycroft’s palms. “But I want to.” 

Taking Mycroft’s wrists in his hands, Greg pulled away and started backwards towards the bed, tugging Mycroft with him. When he felt the back of his knees hit the mattress, Greg released Mycroft before reaching into a pocket and handing a packet of condoms and lube to the other man. Greg’s response to Mycroft’s raised brow was a sly grin and shimmying out of his own clothes. 

Once naked, he made his way to the middle of the bed on hands and knees, pert arse on display. Mycroft’s attention was glued to the man’s behind, watching Gregory shake it enticingly in his direction. 

“Come on then. Don’t keep me waiting.” Greg said playfully as he looked at Mycroft over his shoulder. “Or are we back to me begging for your cock?” 

Mycroft easily slipped behind Gregory on the bed, sliding a hand over Greg’s toned and tanned back and down his flank as Mycroft moulded their bodies together. 

When Greg felt their naked skin touching, he pressed his backside firmly against Mycroft’s pelvis, eliciting moans from both of them at the sensation of Mycroft’s cock sliding against the crease of his arse. 

“You feel so good.” Greg breathed out, arching his back as he rubbed against the other man. 

“Stop that.” Mycroft said as he held Greg’s hips still, although the authority of the statement was lost with how out of breath he sounded. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Then hurry up.” Greg replied, taking a pillow in his arms and laying his upper body down on it. He didn’t have to wait long before Mycroft was running a lubricated finger around his puckered entrance; though Mycroft only slid the digit into him after Greg shot an impatient look over his shoulder. 

Greg dropped his head back onto the pillow when he felt the digit, which seemed larger now that it was inside him, slip deeper. He bit back a moan, taking deep calming breathes as he tried to get used to the sensation. 

“Gregory?“ 

“No.” he said shakily. “Don’t you dare stop, Mycroft.” As if to emphasise his point, Greg squeezed down on the finger, wanting more. 

Mycroft smoothed circles over Greg’s lower back and sides as he added a second finger, making sure that Greg was thoroughly prepared, especially given the man’s lack of experience. Greg was still tight even with a third finger but by that time, both of them were losing their patience, Greg more so than Mycroft. 

“Please.” Greg ended up saying, “Mycroft. Please. Please.” The way Greg said that last word, almost like a sob, was what spurred Mycroft to don the condom and ease his way into Gregory’s still tight channel. 

Greg’s answering moan when Mycroft was finally, _finally_ , seated deep inside him was of pure pleasure. Mycroft took a moment to let the other man adjust to the sensation, peppering the detective inspector’s shoulder with kisses while he drew soothing circles over Greg’s abdomen and sides. Only when Greg turned his head slightly to bump their noses together, a signal for Mycroft to get on with it, did Mycroft begin moving his hips. 

He kept his movements shallow and slow, still hesitant to push Greg too far; once Greg started meeting his thrusts, Mycroft increased his tempo and depth. 

Mycroft knew he wouldn’t last long, especially with the way Gregory was squeezing tight around him. Snaking an arm around Greg’s hips, Mycroft took Greg’s shaft firmly in his hand and started stroking the man, the droplets that gathered by the tip helped to ease the slide of his palm against hard flesh. 

Gregory spilled all over Mycroft’s hand and their sheets with a deep moan, back arching as the sparks of pleasure ran through and out of him. He experienced a brief sense of disappointment when he came to moments later to find that he had missed Mycroft achieving completion. From the corner of his eye, Greg watched Mycroft throw the soiled condom into the garbage bin before coming back to slip behind him and pull him close. 

Greg hummed as he turned around to face Mycroft, resting his head on Mycroft’s shoulder as he let out a yawn. They lay together, drifting in and out of a light doze as their sweat cooled under the gust of the hotel’s air-conditioning, both too tired to really care just yet about the slight chill or the mess they made.

\-- 

Mycroft lifted his eyes from the report he was reading on his mobile about Sherlock drenched in blood getting onto the tube with a harpoon for a mere second at the sound of splashing water, but once he caught sight of Gregory rising from their room’s private outdoor pool, water sluicing down the tanned torso, it was enough to take his mind entirely off his brother. He was aware that he was staring, mouth agape at the image Gregory presented – hair slicked back, water droplets glistening in the sunlight and swim trunks riding low on Greg’s hips – but Mycroft couldn’t find it in him to care as he was too busy enjoying the show. 

Seeming to know that he was the centre of Mycroft’s attention at that moment, Gregory took his time to dry off, stretching his arms over his head once or twice before turning to catch Mycroft’s gaze. With a coy smirk, Greg made his way to where Mycroft was seated under the shade, placing the mobile safely onto the side table and straddling the man once he was close enough to do so. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gregory asked playfully, his slightly pruned fingers running through Mycroft’s sweat-soaked hair. Despite the air-conditioning that was constantly turned on, Mycroft still perspired easily. Even Greg's suggestive offers of slathering sunscreen on Mycroft's body had been met with continuous disapproval. But that might be mostly due to the fact that after just a few moments of Greg applying the lotion they found themselves back in bed, the sheets extra sticky with the addition of sunscreen that time around. 

“I was just wondering,” Mycroft said as he raked his gaze down Greg’s chest, “How far your new colour goes.” He slipped a finger underneath the garter of Greg’s swim trunks, tugging it down an inch to show the stark contrast of the sun’s effects on Greg’s skin. Without warning, Mycroft shifted closer and darted his tongue out to catch a stray droplet of water on the paler patch of skin before licking a stripe upwards to the middle of Gregory’s stomach. Greg gave a surprised gasp at the sensation, his abdomen jumping as Mycroft left his saliva cooling on Greg’s skin. 

Greg tilted Mycroft’s head up to coax the man’s eyes to stare into his. “I’m guessing you like the heat a little better now?” 

“I suppose.” Mycroft said with a slightly exaggerated tone of exasperation. “Although, some more persuasion might be in order.” 

Greg broke out into a grin at the invitation. 

-end-


End file.
